Original subtitles

MIMI THE METALWORKER

WOUNDED IN HONOR

Workers! Do you know who Carmine Cannamozza is?

A son of a bitch.

Anyone Iacking in respect for Mr. Carmine Cannamozza...

shows a Iack of respect for Don CaIogero.

Remember that tomorrow when you go to vote.

Cannamozza's Iot were campaigning at the pit.

Hang on and we'II discuss it outside.

Mimi!

I found a butt. Can I smoke it?

You'II bIow us sky-high in this suIfur. I'II take it.

Don't you trust your own brother?

AII right.

This one's yours... and this one's mine.

We'II smoke them together.

I'II teach you aII you need--

WeII?

Forget it. I don't want to vote for him...

but I don't want troubIe.

They scare you into submission.

Vote how you Iike. What's there to Iose?

My job.

At the pit? With the wage they give you?

CaII that a good job?

- No. - So?

You're right.

Screw it.

You're a stupid, ignorant, arrogant animaI.

Secret baIIot, here?

They know everything down to the hairs on our bums.

Six votes were promised, six votes is what they get.

Your father's a man of honor.

He keeps his word.

Want him dead in a ditch...

his guts in his hands, his ears round his neck?

Judas!

It's the temperature you Iike.

You burnt me, you ugIy oId moron.

But what's aII this spring cIeaning anyway?

Do you need cIean feet to vote these days?

Who did you say we vote for?

Idiot. Don CaIogero's been teIIing us for months.

Cannamozza's his man.

So he has to be our man too?

Sure.

No, thanks.

- Why? - Can't stand him.

You're not marrying him. Shut up and vote.

Nice, eh?

Say you Iike it.

Quiet. They'II hear.

Who, for God's sake?

They're out coId.

RosaIia, you're a wife.

You've got to do your bit. Say something.

- Say what? - Whatever you Iike.

That same scared expression.

Like a Iamb to the sIaughter.

You put a man off.

Where's this kid of ours? It's aII your fauIt.

- You shouId see yourseIf. - Don't Iook, then.

Want me to make Iove to the piIIow?

It's Iike it was a chore.

Do something. TaIk. What sort of woman are you?

I'm embarrassed.

That's right. Turn on the waterworks.

Get stuffed, then.

And you're not to vote for Cannamozza.

Don't Iet Don CaIogero's Iot frighten you.

They're there just to scare us.

It's a secret baIIot.

Vote for the Left. No one wiII know.

Secret?

Top secret.

CarmeIo Marzucheo.

My respects.

This is to inform you...

that there's no point going down to the pit...

since there's no work there for you, and never wiII be.

It's finished between you and us.

Why?

I know why...

you know why...

and God knows why.

Didn't you say it was a top secret baIIot?

WeII, obviousIy it wasn't.

No work for me.

There's no work around.

And his mother's a stinking whore!

Mimi, what's up?

I won't even get hired to cIean stabIes, that's what.

I'm a marked man.

There's no work for me and there never wiII be.

I'm going to Turin.

- Ignore them. - Bunch of haIf-wits.

I'II get you a job on a site.

They won't take me. So, too bad. I'm off.

In Turin, they pay workers. They treat them right too.

They're free and respected.

But you're Ietting them win. Stay here and fight.

No way! I'm off to Turin.

There's no Mafia there. Not one of the bastards.

Let's get one thing straight.

Anyone in a poIiticaI party or a trade union?

No, sir.

Good. Because if you're after sick pay, award wages...

I can't heIp.

I can onIy heIp men who need work...

without shit-stirring.

So, you start at 6:00 tomorrow morning.

You'II get doubIe what you get in SiciIy...

for a day's threshing.

500 Iire an hour. Cash in hand.

And if you haven't got a bed...

there's one at the Trinacria Boardinghouse.

200 Iire a bed.

Here at the SiciIian Brotherhood Association...

we're aII friends and brothers.

But you do as we say and keep your mouths shut.

Keep your mouths shut, right?

Because I'm doing you a favor.

And if anyone shouId treat me discourteousIy,

I wouId be very upset.

Got it?

- Take them away. - Come on. Let's go.

Start taking their names.

Move aIong there.

Listen, comrade. In Turin, you wear a newspaper hat.

ReIieving yourseIf?

Think we pay you to piss?

Piss on your Iunch break.

Move it, boys.

- We can't even piss-- - Ignore him.

- The bastard. - I'd Iike a piss myseIf.

On his head.

A faII!

NicoIa!

- Is he hurt? - He Iooks dead to me.

Damn it to heII.

Give him a hand.

That's it, boys. Work's over. Back to town.

Come on. Move!

AII those from the boardinghouse, out!

Don't bother rushing. I'd say he's dead.

- Who brought him? - What the-- Hey!

I was in here when you drove off.

What the heII's he doing in there?

Come on. Get out of here.

- What are you doing? - He was working iIIegaIIy.

Is it our fauIt he feII off the scaffoId?

Bring him out. We don't even know his name.

I do. NicoIa Sperero. And who'II feed his famiIy?

Do you take us for a charity?

Bring him out. No one's coming.

No, you don't. There's his famiIy to think of--

You're done for.

Get rid of that stiff.

Watch out!

There'II be no bed for him tonight.

Grab the IittIe bastard! He's not to get away.

Watch it. I'm not Iike NicoIa.

- If anything happens to me-- - Where do you want him?

I'II fix him.

Okay, you fiIthy IittIe runt.

So what are these threats?

Did you teII the union?

No, I wrote to my wife, registered, express, and aII...

with your names, the Iot.

Did you now? He wrote to his oId Iady.

That wasn't very sensibIe, son.

Your threats go in one ear and out...

I won't say where.

With aII this traffic, road accidents...

a Iot of things can happen these days.

Seeing you wrote to the wife...

I'II remember to send her a wreath.

Take him away.

CarefuI. My wife is CaIogero Liggio's godchiId.

If I come to any harm, she'II teII his boys...

to Iook for SaIvatore Tricarico.

Liggio from CorIeone?

His cousin.

Let him go.

TeII me something.

What's a reIative of the Liggio famiIy doing...

coming up to Turin Iike this?

I didn't want to put anyone out.

But now, under the circumstances...

Very weII, then. I'II beIieve you.

But you couId've said who sent you.

SaIvatore Tricarico aIways respects the Liggio famiIy.

UnfortunateIy, I wasn't acquainted with you.

So I kept my distance.

I'd have heIped out with whatever you required.

WeII, if it's not too Iate...

I couId use a nice job with PireIIi, or Fiat.

With PireIIi or Fiat--

And I took him for a haIf-wit.

AII right, despite your idiotic behavior...

I'II beIieve you.

I'II trust you.

AII right, you'II get your job.

You have SaIvatore Tricarico's word.

But if you're having me on...

you'II be in shit up to your neck, boy.

''Dear wife...

This is to teII you I'm in a factory now.

And I'm CarmeIo Marzucheo, metaIworker now.

A whoIe different baIIgame.

It's IegaI, with sick pay, awards-- too good to be true.

At first, I did feeI a bit Iost in aII this hubbub.

Then I reaIized everyone here is from down our way...

and more Iost than I am.

BeIieve it or not...

it took a week to meet a reaI IocaI.

They're good peopIe too...

and my new friends here have taught me a Iot...

about work and poIitics.''

PoIitics isn't something you put in a box.

PoIitics is everyday Iife, everything you do.

Buying a pair of underpants is poIitics.

You're making a choice.

If it's right, you heIp everyone.

If it's wrong, you heIp the bosses screw us.

Got it?

''I can see my father's face...

but it's better to hear it from me than someone eIse.

I've joined the trade union. And the Communists too.''

I knew it!

He's got in with those bandits.

He'II Iand in jaiI. Communist! Turd, more IikeIy.

What's going on? Who's this trade union?

Subversion, that's what.

- Right, Cicciuzzo? - Right. He'II Iand in jaiI!

- Let me see. - Leave me aIone!

Shut up, aII of you. Let me read it.

''Dear wife...

As for your idea of coming to join me...

I have to say no. Lodging's expensive here.

EspeciaIIy for us Southerners.

These sons of bitches consider us animaIs.

I've got a furnished room. It's a sad Iife.

No pIace for a wife.''

Hey, Latin Lover! Ready for the orgy?

Move it.

''Love and kisses, your husband, CarmeIo.''

They pick you up at the station...

and put you in dormitories, Iike pigs in a sty.

They pay you a pittance because you're desperate.

If you have an accident...

they dump you Iike a dog.

I witnessed it.

This sort of thing must stop.

25,000 construction workers don't have any protection.

We must put a stop to it.

No more day Iabor.

We must expose the expIoiters, but to do that...

we need names.

And the poor workers are too scared to name names.

Fear's a drug.

You don't see what's there, you see what's not there.

Just a moment. Quiet!

CarmeIo Marzucheo is one of us.

And he wouIdn't be too scared.

This SiciIian Brotherhood Association...

Who's the head of it?

Who's behind it aII?

His name.

His name's--

I'm afraid I don't know.

The skunk never gave any particuIars, otherwise--

I'm sorry. I can't teII you anything.

Those sons of bitches. One even had a knuckIeduster.

They reaIIy scared me, you know. The cowards.

Want some? I'm starving.

They beat us up Iast week too.

We caIIed the cops, but no go.

They ran off. No one ever showed.

Cops try and avoid troubIe.

Besides, I reckon they're gIad to see us beaten up.

What a hide!

Know what one of them said to VioIetta's face?

''Don't seII poIiticaI papers, sweetheart. SeII chestnuts.

Stay out of troubIe.''

My name's Fiore. What's yours?

Marzucheo, CarmeIo.

What sort of name's that?

It's after Our Lady of CarmeIo...

but my friends caII me Mimi.

Mimi? Why not Lucia di Lammermoor?

What's so funny?

Nothing.

What a face!

Are you offended? TypicaI bIoody Southerner.

I'm not offended.

But don't caII me that, Miss.

AII right, aII right.

But aren't you one of us? A comrade?

What's this ''Miss'' business?

Good breeding. But if you'II aIIow me...

Fiore...

Are you a comrade?

Sure thing.

But I have my opinions. I was a Trotskyite.

Sorry?

A Trotskyite. Left of the Left.

There's nothing Left of the Left.

The true Left is the 8 miIIion workers of the PCI.

BIess you!

The way you said ''PCI'' sounded Iike a sneeze.

Anyway, I'm nothing just now. In no party.

I'm waiting. Waiting for something to happen.

With one Iot into bombs, another into banning work...

we're aII on the Left...

but we squabbIe among ourseIves Iike enemies.

I guess I'm a simpIe girI Iike my grandma.

She was a peasant.

But I've got to make up my own mind, see?

Man mustn't expIoit man.

That's the core. As for the rest...

we've won a few things off the bosses in 100 years.

I don't beIieve Russia wiII end up Iike America...

with everyone stifIed by industry, machines, Iike here.

I don't beIieve it. What about you?

Me? WeII, to be honest...

I wouIdn't know.

So I said...

''I'm not staying here, Mum. I'm not ending up Iike you.

I'II take what IittIe I've got...

and spIit to MiIan to Iive my Iife.''

Did you Iive it?

Sure thing! ZiIch. I ended up as a saIesgirI.

I'm hopeIess.

Anyway, it didn't Iast. Just Iisten to this.

This asshoIe of a supervisor caIIs me in...

and sees Mao's book in my bag. The red one.

He grabs it, cIoses the door...

and whacks me on the bum, the dirty Iecher.

Then the sIimy bastard says...

''Put out for me, baby, or go. No anarchists aIIowed here.''

No way. I brained him and scrammed.

What a beautifuI pIace.

It couId be Hyde Park. The perfect pIace for a crime.

A pIace for-- What are they caIIed?

Sex fiends.

What's up with you? You're giving me the creeps.

You Iook Iike you've got a gut ache. Have you?

Must've been that coId beer...

- It's your fauIt. - Mine?

Why?

I'm sorry. I'm reaIIy sorry.

PIease, may I, comrade-- WouId you Iet me kiss you?

PIease. WouId you?

PIease, wouId I? WeII--

PIease.

WouId you?

MongreI!

What a heeI! Comes on aII gentIemanIy!

What trash! These Southerners come here and assauIt you.

That's aII I needed. How dare you! I'II kiII you.

First, it's ''PIease, wouId you? A kiss?''

Then it's sexuaI assauIt. Go to heII!

It wasn't assauIt. It was passion.

I'm sorry, Fiore. I was overcome.

I simpIy gave in to sensuaI temptation.

AssauIt? For Heaven's sake. Me?

In aII modesty, I usuaIIy go down weII with women.

Because you attract me Iike no one ever has.

You can't turn me down. You can't say no now.

No now. What do you take me for?

- You're turning me down? - Yeah.

Why?

Did someone say something about me?

What? Who do you think knows you anyway?

TeII me. Did some eviI gossip teII you...

that I'm a married man?

Sure! Everyone I see in the street teIIs me.

Listen, SiciIy...

I couIdn't give a fig if you're married.

As if that'd stop me! I'm against it, anyway.

Free or married, it's aII the same to me.

It's for another reason. I beIieve in Iove.

It's a serious matter.

Am I Iaughing?

I couIdn't be more serious.

I feII in Iove with you the moment I saw you.

Did you? I didn't.

Fiore, wait.

I never even beIieved in Iove before.

I thought it was women's fooIishness.

SIoppy stuff. Overdone.

Poor you. I'm fine.

Why turn me down? I thought you Iiked me.

So? I'm not in Iove, thanks.

But I'm suffering. PIease, as a favor.

Are you crazy? As if I wouId.

These things aren't done as favors. Anyway, I'm a virgin.

Virgin? You mean, Iike a Virgo?

No, sweetheart. A virgin.

And don't Iook Iike that. Another disbeIiever, eh?

A virgin. I'm deIighted, but--

Didn't you say you were a comrade and a troII--

- What? - You teII me.

Trotskyite, not troIIop.

I'd never have said that.

It's just that, up here, everything's so confused.

Nothing makes sense.

What do you take me for? I keep having to expIain.

And I'm sick of expIaining, anyway.

They don't beIieve me.

Or eIse they want proof. Sure! They drive me bats.

Or eIse I'm mad, or frigid...

WeII, I have my own ideas.

Marriage, no, but Iove, yes.

With the man I Iove, even if I take 50 years to find him.

Otherwise, it's fiIth.

So, you and me... nothing doing.

Now, on your bike! And pedaI out of here.

In fact, go to heII! BIoody Southerner.

You go to heII!

Stupid bitch!

This insane Iove means I no Ionger respect anything.

If I'm to be a man, I must put an end to it...

even if I don't know what that wiII do to me.

But you don't owe me a thing, Fiore.

Sorry. I can't Iook at you...

I'm sure you're right.

What you say's true.

A woman shouId onIy give herseIf to a man...

OnIy if she cares for him.

But you don't care for me.

I know because when I see your eyes...

that see nothing, or something eIse, but not me...

I think of you dreaming at night, but not of me.

You can't Iove me, Fiore...

because if you did...

you wouIdn't hurt me so much.

But unfortunateIy, you don't Iove me.

And aII this Iove I have for you...

great, desperate, useIess as it is...

is onIy my Iove, and not yours.

So I'm Ieaving, Fiore.

You'II never hear my name again.

No, don't. I Iove you too.

You did it.

SIow and steady wins the race.

I don't quite understand. What did you just say?

Come on, for God's sake.

- HoIy... - You heard.

I said I Iove you.

Fiore, if you're joking, you're being very crueI.

Who's joking?

You've got me now. I'm reaIIy in Iove.

And I feeI for you the way you do for me.

That's why I sent my dumb fIatmate away.

Because from now on...

this can be your home.

Just a moment.

CarefuI, because to me...

this is something big.

Something important.

Because I...

You see...

You and me...

It's aII or nothing and good-bye.

Listen.

Let's get one thing straight.

If you so much as touch another woman...

even your wife...

you won't see me again.

Because, whiIe Iove Iasts...

I want it to be perfect. Otherwise, I'd prefer nothing.

Now, swear.

Of course. I swear.

Of course, I swear it.

WeII?

What are you waiting for?

It can't be happening.

My poor darIing.

Sweetness.

CarmeIotto.

CuddIe-pie.

Fioruzzo.

When I caIm down...

I'm going to smother you.

Smother you with Iove.

Come on.

Come here.

Cheer up.

What does it matter?

- Aren't you happy? - Yes. I'II kiII myseIf.

But why, siIIy?

Because if I can't manage to make Iove with you...

I may as weII kiII myseIf.

You are siIIy, darIing. Come here.

Here...

Isn't it IoveIy here? Can you hear the rain?

And here we are together.

You and me, aIone.

Don't be sad.

Come on.

You know I've never... been Iike this.

Like this. AII naked in a man's arms...

I feeI wonderfuI. I didn't know it was Iike this.

So sweet.

I Iove it.

What more couId there be?

''Dear husband: This is to say...

that your father won't buy me a ticket to Turin...

so I'm Iooking for work to pay for it myseIf.

So I'm RosaIia Marzucheo, factory worker now.

A whoIe different baIIgame, as you say.''

Conveyer-beIt express Iaundress.

AII femaIe staff, so put your mind at rest.

I aIso started smoking...

''and, after taking aII moraI and physicaI precautions...

I Iearnt to ride a motorcycIe...

and am now an expert driver.

With your consent, I might buy one on credit.

I can't teII you what your father says.''

If anyone sees you, I'II disown you. Whore!

What's that on your head?

CarmeIotto!

CarmeIotto? Have some respect.

You've got to Iearn to show more respect.

I can't work you out.

You have such IoveIy curIs. Why straighten them?

Don't you Iike it?

You Iook Iike Gus, DonaId Duck's cousin.

Yes. I am Gus, DonaId Duck's cousin.

You're a woman. A man's toiIet is not your concern.

You were born to knit...

to make these HarIequin suits you make me wear.

And you were born to make Iove.

- Not with that net on. - Don't I Iook Iike VaIentino?

And I don't want to miss the construction workers' march.

Why don't you want to miss it?

You can't Ieave those poor comrades in the Iurch.

They say there'II be 30,000. Imagine, 30,000 in the square.

I'm a metaIworker. I march with the metaIworkers.

WeII, I'm off.

Off, my arse.

You're a metaIworker's woman. Your soIidarity's with me.

You don't even know them.

30,000 ruffians. SiciIians and CaIabrians.

They won't be marching.

They'II be touching up the women.

Come off it.

You can't be jeaIous of 30,000 construction workers!

That's not the point.

I'm against the march for poIiticaI reasons.

Sure. Come on. TeII it the way it is.

You're ashamed to admit you're eaten with jeaIousy.

I can't heIp it.

Imagining them Iooking at your backside sends me wiId.

Communists shouIdn't be jeaIous.

What wouId that Iead to?

I can hardIy go out with a veiI, Iike a Turk.

Why not? What have you got against the Turks?

Everyone's aIways picking on them.

Yet those Turks have a head on their shouIders.

No wonder they conquered the worId.

With their wives Iocked away...

they couId fight without worrying.

You're crazy, and I am head over heeIs.

Okay, Mr. Sheikh, here's your harem, and I'm your suItana.

SuItana! Fiore's being a suItana.

Go on, be a suItana. You're IoveIy. ReaIIy you are.

In aII those coIors, you Iook Iike a butterfIy.

A sexy butterfIy.

Where shaII I grab you?

Got you!

The phone's ringing.

HeIIo, who's speaking?

This is CarmeIo Marzucheo. You're tickIing. Who's this?

Catania?

RosaIia?

Screw you and the TV.

Don't think I'II Iet you go to your wife...

just because you turn up with a TV, asshoIe!

But it's been a year. And it's onIy for three days.

- And three nights. - Two in the train.

And one in a woman's bed.

- My wife's. - She's stiII a woman.

She's not a woman to me. She's Iike an aunt.

Take this, you and your bIoody aunt!

You're not going anywhere, so get that cIear.

You dirty rotten Southerner.

UntiI you give up the idea...

no food, no drink, no sIeep, just sex. That'II teach you.

I'II smother you. You wait. I'II wear you to shreds.

You'II never ask for it again.

Catania, my foot!

We're going to make Iove 'tiI you drop.

You make me mad!

Imagine your wife's face if she saw me.

Poor thing. I'm about to have your chiId...

and your own wife never even had one.

That doesn't mean anything. This was Iove.

ChiIdren come when there's Iove.

TeII that to aII those young girIs who have kids...

and get dumped by some fIy-by-night student.

ChiIdren come whenever.

What's going on out there?

Nothing. Just another protest march.

Out there in this snow.

You never taIk about the comrades anymore.

How's the fight?

A IittIe kick. I just feIt it kick.

LittIe teeny-weeny one.

SIeep, sIeep Iike a tweety bird in a nest.

SIeep, IittIe Mimi, sIeep aII warm in there.

Your daddy wiII buy you everything you need.

I'II buy you a miIk shake maker...

and I'II buy you a tricycIe.

It's in the consumer society before it's even born.

What next?

You'II have it driving before it can even waIk.

My son wiII never want for anything.

He'II have everything I never had.

My son wiII be a king.

Here, champagne. French and aII.

I'II get another bottIe. No expense spared today.

Don't shoot. I know nothing--

CarmeIo Marzucheo.

I'm sorry.

CarmeIotto--

Oh, HoIy Virgin--

Mimi, my baby.

He's come to. You were Iucky, son.

A IittIe scratch, that's aII.

It just grazed him, madam. Don't worry. Lift him up.

It's nothing. Come on.

Get him a brandy.

Listen, son...

just a few informaI questions.

We thought you'd had it too.

Good evening, sir.

We've got an eyewitness this time. A survivor.

TeII us what happened.

You saw the kiIIer's face, of course?

I know nothing.

I can't heIp you. I came in and fainted.

Describe him at Ieast.

I'm sorry. I can't heIp. I know nothing.

I don't feeI weII.

Hey, Marzucheo. Haven't seen you at union meetings IateIy.

He's out to get ahead.

He's on the other side now.

Where?

The bosses' side.

Sure, I work, and I want to do better...

for my son.

We aII have chiIdren, damn it.

Some of us give a shit. Some don't. That's aII.

Enjoy your work!

You finish up on the 25th.

Your transfer's through.

You're a foreman at the new Catania pIant.

I didn't request any transfer.

Isn't this your signature?

It's impossibIe. I never signed anything.

I swear, on my son's head.

Listen, son. Forget this idea about a fake signature.

If you have reasons not to transfer, that's up to you.

But you're off the books here. We've aIready repIaced you.

To us, you're in Catania.

- It's IoveIy. - CIose that.

You're crazy. Want everyone to see you?

Aren't you going a IittIe too far, darIing?

You don't reaIize.

If my wretched wife sees us, she'II shoot on sight.

Cover yourseIf.

Even the waIIs have eyes and ears here...

especiaIIy in deIicate matters.

- Who can that be? - No idea. Who's there?

- Is Mr. Marzucheo there? - Say I'm not here.

No one's to know. Say I'm not here.

No, he's not. Who's there?

That's not important.

TeII him the Managing Director wants to see him.

My cousin, SaIvatore Tricarico...

toId me to Iook after you.

We don't forget our friends.

So he had me transferred?

What's he got against me? Wasn't shooting me enough?

It was a mistake.

I apoIogize for him.

He didn't know how far he couId reIy on you.

But you've behaved Iike one of us to the end.

So you were transferred.

You'II get ahead now, here at the refinery.

The right person knows you're our man.

That's preciseIy what I don't want.

I don't want anything to do with you Iot.

I'm not Iike that. I'm for decent peopIe, workers.

For your information...

I've aIways worked.

Do you think this was buiIt with hot air?

It represents struggIe, bIood, work for wretches.

PIease don't taIk to me about wretches.

You've aIways expIoited those poor wretches.

How eIse did you create aII this Iuxury?

CIearing the orange groves...

to buiId overpriced two-room boxes...

as if no one knows how eIections are run down here.

It's peopIe Iike you who pander to the bosses.

You're their Iackeys.

The ones you caII bosses are our Iackeys.

Ever thought of that?

FooI!

The bosses' Iackeys--

Don't put on airs. I know the stuff you're made of.

You dared to bIackmaiI SaIvatore Tricarico...

but you didn't name him to the union or the poIice.

Why?

Because deep down inside, you know perfectIy weII...

you can trust us, but not the poIice.

So you're on our side.

Not theirs. Remember that.

Drop your Ieft-wing ideas.

Communistic dreams aren't for you.

Nor for any of our peopIe.

We need bosses here.

There's things to organize.

- What? A coup? - There's no need for that.

A person with know-how...

couId have things under controI in a fIash.

AII that's needed is a few professionaIs.

Bag-snatching, robberies, kidnappings...

pin a few bombs on the anarchists...

sIander interfering poIiticians...

and you're set.

Hordes of peopIe...

are cIamoring for protection and order.

- And we give it to them. - Fine methods you have.

It's poIitics.

I toId you, the pIace needs bosses.

And when the time comes...

we'II need young peopIe, ones we can trust, Iike you.

No, thanks. Don't count on me.

RuIe me out. My respects.

This isn't an order, son...

I've got a touch of sciatica and I can't bend down.

I've dropped 100 Iire.

WouId you mind picking it up for me?

I'm asking you a favor.

Good.

- We'd Iike to see Marzucheo. - Not aIIowed.

- What? Can't we-- - Move it!

What's aII this? Lazy Southerners?

Is this the army or something?

Watch it!

Watch your tongue. Sergeants give me the shits.

LittIe Mimi's asIeep.

Where do you want Lenin, darIing?

Here, above the bed?

Look at the way he's Iooking at me...

as if he's aIways criticizing.

He shatters my nerves.

Put him out of sight, that's aII I ask.

AII right.

SiciIy certainIy is a beautifuI pIace.

And the peopIe are so IoveIy.

The chiIdren Iook Iike oIives...

with those big, bIack eyes.

Poor IittIe things. There's so much poverty.

If they didn't have peopIe Iike you to heIp...

peopIe who've traveIed...

who've seen other things and broadened their minds.

Otherwise these poor things couIdn't defend themseIves.

DarIing, you have to go home.

Come on.

HoIy Cross of God!

RosaIia--

Don't you feeI weII?

Fatigue. I'm sorry.

- I'II get you the vinegar. - Quiet. They'II hear.

I don't want them to know. The poor things wouId worry.

I haven't feIt weII in a Iong whiIe.

I'm sorry for your sake.

I don't have the strength to do my maritaI duty.

I feeI... aII incapacitated.

I don't care.

But swear one thing.

That you haven't been unfaithfuI.

Me? It never even crossed my mind.

In Turin, it was aII men together.

Like the army.

Your husband Iooks fine. You couIdn't teII.

- TeII what? - Nothing. Just thinking.

Don't think.

Does he stiII have fatigue?

I'm afraid so. Permanent incapacity.

Poor you, with a husband that way.

Yes, it's quite a story.

Were you in the Autumn Campaign?

More or Iess.

You must taIk to the comrades. Broaden our minds.

So we won't even say heIIo?

We shouId at Ieast go up there.

I'm not coming. Sex is a deIicate matter.

It may be spitefuI, but gossip breeds fast.

- Come on. - No. On my first free Sunday.

AII right, but we'II be waiting, metaIworker.

Nothing?

It's nothing. Stupid things.

Stupid things?

Things that shouId be discussed in private.

I've got a spare 5 minutes.

Stinking haIf-witted chicken thief!

You took me for a fag? A poof!

Me, a queer? AsshoIes!

I swear I never beIieved it.

Shut up. Quiet. Not another word!

This insuIt shouId be paid for with buckshot.

But I'm a civiIized man...

not a peasant Iike you Iot.

Get in.

Get in the car! On the doubIe.

- What are you up to? - Quiet! Get in.

Come on. Move it!

It's aII RosaIia's fauIt!

- Is anyone foIIowing? - No. Don't worry.

Forget what you're about to see...

or it may cost someone his Iife.

- Whose? - Who knows?

Just remember, this is...

an extremeIy deIicate matter.

We mustn't Iook conspicuous.

We'II spIit up in pairs.

It's your fauIt I didn't do it.

- Ours? - Yes, sir.

Your backward mentaIity.

That poor RosaIia is a good woman.

How couId I abandon her...

knowing what you Iot think of divorced women?

WouId you marry a divorced woman?

Not a SiciIian.

But a rich American...

I'd consider it.

Now Mimi's a reaI man.

MetaIworker, automobiIe, wife, chiId and mistress.

Perfection.

- See you, PasquaIe. - Bye.

PasquaIe, Iisten. There's been a catastrophe.

We've got to taIk to you.

Just for five minutes. It's confidentiaI.

HighIy confidentiaI!

So, what's this aII about?

- It's a deIicate matter. - HighIy deIicate.

What?

Mimi, you've traveIed, seen the worId.

How shouId I put it? Sown your wiId oats.

Which oats in particuIar?

He means you've ignored certain moraI obIigations.

- What are you referring to? - To RosaIia, your wife.

How?

You Ieft her here, aII aIone.

Even now that you're back, you're aIways busy.

So she feeIs IoneIy? Does she want company?

No, it's just that-- It isn't that--

Spit it out.

Did someone teII her something about me?

No, you see, your wife--

Poor thing.

- FeIt negIected. - Unhappy.

- Does he need prompting? - Shut up, PasquaIe.

She feIt negIected. You know, with no kids.

So? Is it my fauIt there aren't any?

No, but with your fatigue--

BasicaIIy, she isn't happy.

I'm sorry.

I'm fond of RosaIia.

She's been a good wife, a good worker...

and for a SiciIian, she's pretty emancipated.

But there are certain things of a more intimate nature...

that she's just not made for.

She's-- WeII, she's the quiet type.

And now she feeIs IoneIy.

What can I do about it?

SpeII it out, wouId you?

What is it she wants? A chiId?

Not at aII.

She's aIready expecting.

- Three months pregnant. - A disaster.

You're inteIIigent, a metaIworker, Communist.

You have your fauIts. So forget the vengeance stuff.

It's time to sort things out.

Divorce, no divorce, but be amicabIe.

With mutuaI respect. It's better for you too.

Show everyone how to be civiIized, with no fuss.

What--

It was at driving schooI. She did resist him.

You had fatigue, he insisted, she gave in.

It was onIy one night, but--

Destroy the honor of my famiIy, whore!

A Communist wouId never do this.

Screw your Communism! I'm a cuckoId.

What am I doing on foot?

I'II kiII her!

Rotten bitch. Whore!

Stop, Mimi!

But why?

Bitch!

You've dragged my famiIy name in the mud.

And my mother's name too.

Are you going to kiII me?

Yes, indeed. This insuIt must be wiped out.

Wiped out, I say.

Take it off!

It's true. I disgraced you. I must pay for it.

You're right.

You're right.

Don't, damn you!

Don't say I'm right.

A woman, and a sIut to boot.

Don't teII me I'm right, do you hear?

Otherwise I won't be abIe to do anything to you.

Wicked, fiIthy aduIteress.

I have to kiII you.

Can I Iive without honor?

Can I Iive as a cuckoId?

AII right, fiIth, confess!

What happened?

Before you die, confess. I want the whoIe story.

I went for my Iicense.

Whore's Iicense?

No, driving Iicense. He was there, in uniform.

He's a sergeant. AmiIcare Finocchiaro.

He kept offering me honey bonbons. That was it.

''It''? A few bonbons and you Iift your skirts?

How dare you? He feII in Iove.

Head over heeIs. He wept, sang to me.

I resisted, but the more I did, the more he sang.

Then there was that shootout, when the aIderman got shot.

Remember, the one they found buried in cement?

Who gives a damn? Where did it happen?

In the cabin of a crane.

The cabin of a crane?

He was guarding a site. It was raining.

We sheItered in the crane.

My missus got herseIf knocked up on a crane?

I'II kiII him.

Don't! Innocent Iives are invoIved.

He's married too? With kids, I suppose.

Five.

Great.

RosaIia--

What a betrayaI. I despair of you.

A sergeant, with five kids...

on a crane, with a name Iike AmiIcare.

He was so nice, especiaIIy about your probIem.

What probIem?

Your iIIness.

You know, your incapacity.

Incapac--

You toId him about that too!

That too?

He'd heard. I denied it so you wouIdn't Iook bad.

He took me to the pictures...

to see Handsome Antonio.

I admitted it.

So, I'm not onIy a cuckoId.

Now you make me out to be a fag!

Some dickhead in a uniform.

So he suits himseIf. The husband's a fag anyway.

But I'm not a fag!

If we haven't had sex, it's because you revoIt me...

and because-- yes, it's time it came out.

Because there's another woman, and she's beautifuI.

And we make Iove day and night because we Iike it.

CaII me a fag?

And she's had my son, the most beautifuI there is.

Now she's out to kiII me!

That bastard won't bear my name.

Yes, it wiII, to disgrace you.

FiIth!

And I won't adopt yours even if you pay me.

- A bastard it'II stay. - Bitch!

But mine wiII be caIIed Marzucheo...

and you'II be a Iaughingstock.

It won't need a name once I kick you to death.

AmiIcare, after him...

and Marzucheo after you.

No one minds their own business here.

Someone who cares...

knows you've been done a discourtesy...

and sends me to be of service.

- To do what? - Whatever you decide.

Leave it aII to me. FrankIy, I'm a professionaI.

TeII whoever sent you I don't need anything.

Come on, Peppino.

- Vito Tricarico sent him? - Who eIse? Santa CIaus?

He's aII I need.

Mind you, RosaIia deserves it.

You saw what a bitch she is.

Taking it out on my kid.

He's stiII there. He hasn't taken his eyes off us.

And Vito Tricarico--

My son, a bastard...

and that asshoIe sergeant's son with my name...

whiIe everyone Iaughs at me, an out-and-out cuckoId.

Tricarico has the construction workers under his thumb...

and he's getting big.

If we're not carefuI, he'II soon be an aIderman.

They say he's reaIIy tough. He gets rid of peopIe.

As if I didn't know. I know his famiIy.

I saw his cousin kiII four peopIe in Turin.

You were an eyewitness? Then you toId the poIice?

I minded my own business.

What is it you want?

AIways criticizing, teIIing me what to do.

Who do you think you are?

A nobody, that's what...

earning some pittance with your van and Leftist ideas.

You're just a faiIure.

Leave me in peace. Go away.

Who do you think you are? A poor wretch.

- Need a hand? - Go to heII!

Get your hankie and bIow your nose.

Stay on the footpath and be good.

Otherwise you'II get a hiding.

You're beautifuI. You drive me crazy.

Those fiery eyes! When can we meet?

Shame on you, Iecher, in front of these chiIdren.

I've been watching you, adoring you for months.

It's time to speak. When can we meet?

Go away or I'II scream.

But I can't bear it any Ionger.

I want to kiss you, caress you, touch you.

What do you take me for? I'm a wife and mother.

PeopIe wiII taIk.

- When can we meet? - Never!

You won't escape me.

Who are you after?

Mrs. Finocchiaro. I'm a reIative.

- Down there to the right. - Many thanks.

- You drive me crazy. - HoIy Mother!

- What wiII peopIe say? - I'm burning for you.

Let go!

Let go of me, I said!

Go away, wretch. How dare you!

I've toId you aIready, you infIame me.

I must taIk to you. Where? When?

Quiet. I'II be in troubIe. I'II be fired. I'm working.

I'm not budging 'tiI you give me a time and pIace.

- What are you doing to me? - Where and when?

- What are you doing to me? - Where and when?

What do you want? This Iove can't be.

AII right, if you Ieave now. Tomorrow at 4:00, St. NicoI�'s.

Four o'cIock, tomorrow. At the church of St. NicoI�.

My darIing.

You've been admiring me for three months?

Jesus, Joseph and Mary, and I never reaIized!

I do understand you. Love is bIind.

But I'm respectabIe. If I spurned you...

it wasn't because of my scoundreI husband.

He took the fIower of my youth and virtue...

trampIed it, spat on it.

I was a mere girI. He took advantage of that.

He'd been transferred to my town.

He dishonored me. I was a hot-bIooded girI.

I'm NeapoIitan, see?

If my father hadn't gone after him with a gun...

he'd have abandoned me.

I was onIy 18 and pregnant...

and the scoundreI wouIdn't marry me.

He'd dishonored me and aII...

gave me five chiIdren, one after the other.

What couId a poor woman do?

I don't know why, but I think he hates me.

ReaIIy. He's more of a scoundreI than ever.

Never a thought, never a soft word, or a gift.

But I Iove him.

I'm a romantic, so I understand you.

Do you reaIIy dream of me every night?

It's just infatuation. You're young, handsome.

I'm on the pIump side, a touch overweight.

But that's what attracts me.

The dreams I have.

Naked, fat, beautifuI, round and busty.

Oh, no, you don't!

Hands where they beIong! What's this, vioIating me?

I've been straight with you.

This was to be a pIatonic meeting.

It was too much for me. Forgive me, AmaIia.

It won't happen again, I swear.

It's no Iife.

It's misery.

That's the onIy reason I've Iet go...

for one beautifuI moment.

Here, with you, the sea, the music--

I'II dance with you, but don't ask for more.

I just want this pure, passionate memory, see?

AmaIia.

When the record's over, it'II be our Iast good-bye.

- I want to die. - So do I.

Look at me, AmaIia.

- Are you thinking of me? - Hush. CIose your eyes.

Let yourseIf go.

No, Iet me go! I'm not going in there--

Who are you? What do you want?

- Can't you teII? - You reaIIy want it so much?

Isn't that enough?

Or am I so beautifuI?

More than any other. Now, be mine, or I'II kiII you.

I give in, then. Have your way with me.

I'm not used to this. What shouId I do?

Do what feeIs right for you.

Say you Iove me.

Yes, but shut up.

Why? I'm happy.

My darIing.

You're so handsome. You're IoveIy.

I Iove you.

I Iove you so much.

And how much do you Iove me?

TeII me you Iove me.

I Iike hearing you say it.

Do you truIy Iove me?

Say it Iike that. ''I truIy Iove you.''

Won't you say it anymore?

I don't Iove you.

What are you saying? Are you mad?

Now that I've given in. Are you joking?

No.

But now we've reached this point...

the moment of truth has come.

I've Ied you on, AmaIia.

No, it's not true.

Why? Why pIay such a trick?

Your husband got my wife pregnant.

And I must have revenge.

It's aII his fauIt. I'II kiII him.

He's ruined my Iife! It's aII his fauIt.

I'II kiII him. Now, once and for aII.

I'm going to kiII him now.

If you kiII him, you'II end up in jaiI...

and the five kids in an orphanage.

Shut up, you wretch. You scoundreI.

I don't want advice from a deceiver Iike you.

You rotten, fiIthy scoundreI...

insuIting me Iike this.

Did it give you moraI satisfaction?

I'm a metaIworker, AmaIia.

I've become civiIized.

I hope you pay for this.

I know how to use my head now.

Be honest. You want your revenge on your wife.

Do the wounded honor bit, then. Shoot him.

- Get it over with. - No!

CarmeIo Marzucheo, metaIworker, won't shoot.

We're discussing a sIowdown.

What does your gang say?

No strikes.

- What? - No, I said.

AII this banditry. Strikes, unrest, upsets--

AII this bIoody muddIe.

Progress has confused everyone.

It's a swindIe. It was simpIer when you just shot someone.

- Shot? - Mind your own business!

My gang isn't striking. We need order around here.

There have to be profits, or the pIant won't function.

How can we function?

I'II make those profits.

He's stiII there.

I saw him when I arrived.

I thought my husband must have sent him.

He's just a nuisance. He's here for me. Don't worry.

NevertheIess, I don't want witnesses.

Did you prepare for this?

Just as the doctor ordered. Eight days' abstinence.

This is the basaI temperature chart.

I've foIIowed it to the Ietter.

I'm fertiIe. My temperature's up.

I'm ovuIating, so get to work.

''BasaI temperature, AmaIia Finocchiaro.''

Why bring me these bIoody medicaI resuIts every month?

They get on my nerves.

I toId you I trusted you.

I want it cIear that this is business, not pIeasure.

It's easy for you. You just Iie there.

I can't heIp that. It's a cross I have to bear.

- Think I can just do it? - What do you want me to do?

Come on. I haven't got time to waste.

There are probIems.

A man, in certain circumstances...

does need heIp.

HeIp? You disgust me!

I'm making this sacrifice to spite my husband...

who disgusts me even more...

but I can't participate.

The most I can offer you is a IittIe peek.

Don't troubIe yourseIf. There's no need.

What must be done, wiII be done!

Peppino.

Weren't you toId to be here this morning?

It's a very important day. You're not Ieaving, are you?

Me? I'm a poor wretch. A nobody, as you say.

I've other things to do, and you said to Ieave you be.

As you wish, but you'II miss a great scene.

Who with? Him?

Him?

It's a good thing he's here.

He can teII his boss how civiIized peopIe fix things.

CiviIized? You? Because you have a car?

Sergeant AmiIcare Finocchiaro.

- This'II be fun. - How? Mind, he's armed.

Don't worry. It's safe.

Every detaiI's been pIanned.

Every eIement has been prepared, organized...

checked.

The day of reckoning is here.

- Don't do anything stupid. - It's aII going to pIan.

The show has begun.

Mrs. Marzucheo, my respects.

- What do you want? - You.

We're going to church.

I'm not taIking to you. TaIk to the Iawyer.

Too Iate. This chiId bears my name, doesn't he?

Then everyone shouId see the nice big famiIy we are.

I'm not coming with you.

You are, even if I kick you there.

What are you up to? Are you mad?

I'II murder that sIut!

Shut up and move. She's not invoIved.

Sergeant AmiIcare Finocchiaro!

May I have a word with you?

Me?

Yes, sir. You, Sergeant Finocchiaro.

If you wouIdn't mind, I'd Iike a word.

I'm off to church.

It won't take a minute.

Just to sort things out...

in dayIight...

here, in front of friends, Iike gentIemen.

Seeing that, as everyone knows...

my wife's chiId is yours...

and that the one your wife's having...

is mine...

if you agree, when she's deIivered...

we couId swap-- you take yours, I take mine.

That'II settIe aII this muddIe...

of honor and emotion.

Put things straight.

As they say, ''To each his own bastard.''

If you get my meaning.

What's he taIking about?

It's the truth, dear husband.

You cuckoIded me. I cuckoIded you.

You're a cuckoId, Sergeant. Ta-de-dum!

But don't excite yourseIf. You're a rotten scoundreI.

So is he. A pair of fiIthy asshoIes.

Look what you've done. I'II shoot you both!

Ladies and gentIemen, the Sergeant's going to shoot!

I'II kiII you.

Go on.

Go on!

Shoot me.

Shoot me, Sergeant.

Don't worry. SeIf-defense.

I didn't shoot him. He did it.

He did it. I didn't shoot. I was joking.

That other man did it, not him.

You aII saw it.

You aII saw it. It was that other man.

HoIy Mother of Carmine.

Today Miminuzzo asked me what honor was.

''Rubbish,'' I said. ''Like pIaying wars...

forgetting it's a game and getting hurt.

That's why Papa's in jaiI.''

I reckon things aII go wrong...

because you're confused, everyone's confused.

Because we cause them, so we deserve it, see?

Think about it, and when you get out...

you'II have grown.

You'II be simpIe Iike a chiId and understand the truth.

HeIIo, son.

You even come here to mock me. What are you doing?

I'm on an officiaI visit.

In gratitude, I've had your sentence reduced.

You've earned respect. You defended your honor.

Now there's an amnesty. What more do you want?

Crime doesn't cIear my honor. You've ruined my Iife.

Your Iife starts now, idiot.

The time is ripe for taking charge.

I need respected men, and that's what you are now.

We'II taIk when you get out.

- I won't come. - You wiII.

Of course you wiII.

EspeciaIIy as you'II be needing money. Lots of it.

You'II see.

Papa! Papa!

Workers, vote for Vito Tricarico...

for a future without vioIence, strikes, disorder.

Vote for Vito Tri--

No, wait!

I can expIain. I didn't want to--

I can expIain. Fiore!

Don't Ieave me. I didn't want to.

I beIieved in a new, better worId too.

But they're aII cousins.

You don't reaIize, but they're aII cousins!

Wait for me. It wasn't my fauIt.

Don't Ieave me!

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